


Chronicles of Radagast, The

by HASA_Archivist



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: General, War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 15:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3815598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HASA_Archivist/pseuds/HASA_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The thoughts and actions of a certain member of the Istari during the period covered in</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chronicles of Radagast, The

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

The Chronicle of Radagast

 

The harsh voice of the creban brought me back to full consciousness. I had been daydreaming. Something about the golden fields of Yavanna….

The voice cawed yet again. I stirred from my chair, here in my humble dwelling of Rhosgobel. There sat the bird, perched on my windowsill, a black blotch against the setting sun. “Message for Radagast, from Curunir” croaked the bird. Being skilled in the tongues of beasts and birds, I nodded in understanding.

This had become a frequent pattern of late, over the last 80 years or so. Curunir, or Saruman the White, was Chief of the Istari, my own order. And Saruman was head of the White Council as well, the collection of the leading Istari and Eldar who gathered to devise strategy against the Shadow of the East.

Saruman had often sought my aid. I was friend to all kind of beasts and birds, and Saruman had use for these friends. As scouts and observers, gathering intelligence, they were of great aid to Saruman and the Council. And I was only happy to oblige.

“Curunir says message most urgent,” stated the _crebain_ in a harsh voice. Not for the first time, I wished Saruman could find some more pleasant means of delivering these requests. The _crebain_ may be fine flyers, but their harsh tone was always jarring. Even the ravens of Erebor were more pleasant to listen to, or so I thought. O well, Saruman probably didn’t have many options down there in his abode at Isengard. The _crebain_ , natives of Dunland, were doubtless his best choice.

I also remembered how in the beginning, the messages would begin with polite, almost flattering, introductions. “O great Radagast, wisest of councilors,” or “My good cousin Radagast, master of bird and beast.” But of late the messages had grown more perfunctory, almost demanding. My help was expected, and would be provided without question.

“Seek out Gandalf,” the message continued. “He is to be found in or near the land called Shire.”

Gandalf! I could not help but smile. I had not seen Gandalf the Grey in ages. He was a fellow member of the Istari. The Grey Pilgrim he was called. Always on the move. Unlike myself, or Saruman for that matter, Gandalf never made any one place his abode. I had not seen him since, when….ah the year the Council had finally agreed to drive the Enemy from his fortress of Dol Guldur. Gandalf had stopped by on his way to the meeting in Lorien…how thoughtful he was to keep poor Radagast up to date. I held no seat on the Council, though I often aided their efforts as needed. Gandalf was insistent that time that Dol Guldur must be attacked. I had agreed wholeheartedly. The shadow on the Forest had grown long.

That clever Gandalf, I thought. Not only did he get his way at the Council, and finally get all, even Saruman, to agree to his view. At the same time he had helped organize the expedition to Erebor that restored that fair realm and resulted in the fall of the Dragon. A mind like quicksilver he possessed, that Gandalf!

“Where is this Shire? And what message am I to deliver to Gandalf should I find him?” I asked.

The bird croaked in its harsh voice, then continued. “In Eriador, west of a town called Bree. Gandalf should be found in that area. As to the message…Curunir reports dark tidings. The Nine are abroad. They have crossed the great river, and go forth as riders in black. They too seek the land called Shire. Curunir asks that you find Gandalf, and tell him to seek counsel with Curunir in Isengard. Haste is needed.”

Those words made me take an involuntary step backwards. The Nine! Nazgul! Across the river….surely the moment of doom was at hand! But I steadied myself. Was not this the time that I had been sent for, myself and the others. And now each must play their part!

“Tell your master I will go at once and seek out Gandalf. I will deliver the message.” The bird nodded and with one last croak flew off to the south.

I picked up my staff that stood propped against the wall of my little house. I quickly gathered a few belongings, threw a brown cloak over my shoulder, and then exited down the steps to the stable. Climbing my mount, a sturdy beast lent to me by my friends the Beornings, I took one last look at Rhosgobel my home, then sped out westward towards the ford and the passes. Somewhere ahead lay this Shire, and Gandalf!

 

It was almost Midyear’s Day, and I had no idea now how to proceed. I sat glumly alongside the road, my horse grazing nearby.

I had dashed out as soon as the message had come, over the Old Ford then across the pass. I should have stopped at Imladris. Elrond would have perhaps told me where Gandalf might be. But so pressed for time was I that I had passed by the hidden valley and moved on.

But now a week later I sat, lost and unhappy. Saruman would not be pleased! And somewhere out there the Nine were approaching. Of that I was certain.

“Radagast! Whatever are you doing here?”

I looked up. Approaching was a mounted figure, an old man it appeared, clad in grey. But joyfully I jumped up.

“Gandalf! I was seeking you. But all that I was told was that you would be found in a wild region with the uncouth name of Shire.”

He laughed, then dismounted. “Your information was correct,” he said. “But do not put it that way should you meet any of the inhabitants. You are near the borders of that land even now.” He put a hand on my shoulder in greeting. Then his face turned grave. “But why do you seek me? You were never much of a traveler, save in great need.”

I stood silent for a moment, glancing up and down the otherwise quiet roadway. “I have an urgent errand,” I said at last. “I bring evil news. Nazgul! The nine are abroad. They have crossed the Great River secretly in the guise of riders in black!”

Gandalf stood silently as I continued. “They must have some purpose, but what makes them seek out these distant and desolate parts I know not.”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“I am told they seek a land called Shire.”

“The Shire,” he replied, glumly. “Who told you this, and who sent you?”

“Saruman the White,” I replied. “And he told me as well that if you have the need, he will help. But you must go to him at once, ere it is too late.”

He stood silently for a moment, then nodded. “I will go to Saruman  
“Then you must go now! It is already Midsummer. The days are running short. Even if you go to Saruman, the riders will surely find this land they seek. I myself shall go back at once. May the one look over you, Gandalf!” With that I went to my mount, ready to depart.

“Stay a moment,” he cried. “We will need your help, and the help of all those that would give it! Send messages to all the beasts and birds that are your friends. Bid them bring news on any of these matters to myself and Saruman. Tell them bring news to Orthanc!”

“I will do that!” With that I nodded one last time to him, then rode off. Never again in this earth would I see that face again…

 

Summer was passing, passing into an autumn of fear and disquiet. I stood, along the river beside the Carrock, deep in thought.

Evil was stirring. Orcs were abroad again. And Wolves as well. Their losses at the Battle of Five Armies had been recovered. I sighed. After every defeat, the forces of evil seemed to come back ever stronger.

And of course worse was about. The Nine had come forth! Rumor and fear of their doings had not ceased for months.

And where was Gandalf! Naught had been seen or heard of him since our meeting. And no messages from Saruman either. Of course, I had been away from Rhosgobel much of this time, seeking out my friends amongst the beasts and birds, asking them to keep eyes and ears open.

I felt a shadow pass over me. And again. I smiled, for I recognized that shape. No fell beast was that!

So I stood as the great eagle landed beside me. “Hail friend Radagast,” said the bird.

“And hail mighty Gwaihir, lord of Eagles! What news do you bring?”

“Many tidings, none good,” he replied. “Orcs and wolves, and creatures fouler still, are gathering. The shadow of Dol Guldur grows long. The Nazgul have ridden forth, towards Eriador! And lastly, this creature, that Mithrandir brought to Thranduil last year, he has escaped and fled towards the mountains.”

“Any sign of Gandalf?” I asked.

“None!”

I shook my head. All this news was grim. And this last bit, about this creature? I had heard rumor of him. Now it seemed the realm of Thranduil was under assault, and this creature, their charge, had escaped. Gandalf would need to know of this.

“Gwaihir, my friend, this news is ill as you said. Gandalf and Saruman must be told. I bid you go to Orthanc and deliver these tidings. Gandalf said he would be there.”

The great eagle nodded, then took to the air and began his journey south. “Good luck!” I said softly.

 

It was late the following day. I had finally returned to Rhosgobel. O the pleasures of lying once more in your own bed!

There had been no messages or tidings left for me. None from Saruman, or Gandalf for that matter. All was quiet in my simple abode.

I heard, first faintly carried upon the wind, then closer, louder, the sound of great wings beating. Gwaihir had returned. I dashed out of the house as quick as my frail legs could carry me. He came down to meet me.

“What news, my friend?”

The eagles face was grim. He looked me over for a brief time in silence. “What is it?” I asked again. “Did you find Gandalf?”

At last, seemingly satisfied, the eagle responded. “Yea, I found Mithrandir. Held prisoner atop the pinnacle of Orthanc I found him.”

“Prisoner?” I asked incredulously.

“I have ill news. Saruman the White has fallen into evil. He seeks the One Ring for himself, to become a new Dark Lord.”

“Saruman has fallen into evil?” I shook my head. “How is this possible?”

“I suspect you would know more about how that can occur than can I. Are you not of the same order?” he replied.

I stood silently, searching my heart and my memory. Words, spoken long ago, far away, came into my thoughts. _“And ye shall be clothed in mortal flesh, that you might feel their wants, and desires, their weaknesses and strengths…hunger shall ye know, and fear, and hope and joy as well…you shall go amongst them giving aid and succor. But seek not to dominate the hearts and minds of others, but rather stand by them in their time of need and offer hope and wisdom…”_ And something else, words that had been for my ears alone, _“and to you Aiwendil, in your charge I ask thee to tend to all the beasts and birds, the products of my thoughts…”_

And other words, more recent….”O mighty Radagast, I seek your aid. We need to watch the enemy’s movements….watch especially the Gladden Fields…report your findings to your friend and ally, Curunir…”

I fell to my knees. “What a fool I have been!” I cried. The flattery, the words soaked in honey. Even when my heart had darkened, questioning his purposes, always I had gone on offering my aid. To stop the Enemy, he had said. He who now seemed intent on taking his place. And always Radagast the Brown had been his chief assistor. Radagast the Fool more likely!

I remembered the figure next to me. “Aye, it is possible. Even the wisest may fall into folly, then evil. And Saruman was never the humblest or most compassionate of persons…” I chuckled to myself at that thought.

But then I quickly recovered. “But what of Gandalf? Is he safe?”

“He is safe; I rescued him from the tower and brought him to Edoras to seek a mount. But much evil is afoot. Saruman had bred an army of orcs, joined with fell men of the hills. It will go ill in Rohan.”

I shook my head. How indeed the mighty had fallen!

“You are not safe here, my friend!” The eagle’s words broke into my thoughts. “You must flee this place, ere either the shadow of Dol Guldur or the wrath of Saruman fall on you.”

“I should let them take me, as penance for my failings.”

“All were fooled by Saruman, even Mithrandir. But for you, keeping your word and sending me to him, he would still be held prisoner and the evil of Saruman kept secret.”

These words brought some comfort. “I thank you for your kind words, my friend,” I said. “I must renounce despair. Service I can still offer to this fight.”

“Where will you go” asked the Windlord.

I was not sure of the answer myself. What should I do? Staying here was foolish. The Beornings were closest, but I was unsure if that was the best place to go. I could seek that creature of Mithrandir’s, the one who had fled towards the mountains. But what better luck would I have then the elves of Thranduil…

That was it! I would go to Thranduil! I felt he and the fair folk of the wood could use my aid in the trials to come.

“Worry not for me,” I responded. “I will go where I am needed. And you, my friend, you have work to do too. Gandalf will need to rely on the vigilance of the Eagles, if I am not sadly mistaken. Go! I will be fine…” I added, as much to myself as to my friend. He looked me over once more, nodded, then spread his great wings and flew back to his eyrie. I went back into my house to make my final preparations.

 

Far off I heard the howls of wolves. Fell was the voice hidden inside that call. I shook my head in response, then proceeded under the arch and entered the elf-path.

I had bid my mount go that morning, speaking soft words to him and ordering him back to his masters the Beornings, where he would be well tended. I was sad to let him go, but the dark woods were no place for him. I could make almost as good of time on foot along the rough path.

It was dark along the path. But I called forth a dim light atop my staff. Using the faint light, I moved onwards…

It was truly awful, far worse than I remembered, even here in the northern reaches. But then it had been many a year since I had traversed the forest. I had visited the woodmen on the forest edge many a time, but long had it been since I walked all the way through. The darkness of Dol Guldur had grown. Even though the Council had cast out the Enemy from that dark place. I snorted. Saruman had helped in that effort…out of jealousy no doubt, not a sincere desire to help our cause. And the Enemy had foreseen our plans; his retreat was but a feint. Back to Mordor and his Dark Tower he had gone, but Dol Guldur was soon reoccupied by his servants and the darkness continued to spread.

The nights were the worst…though in the darkness it was hard to tell when day began anyways. Evil insects and birds could be heard, and faint sounds of creatures more evil still. I shivered, both from cold and yes, even fear!

The night after I crossed the enchanted stream it all came to a head. I was nearing Thranduil’s halls, and perhaps the fell creatures of the forest sensed that and sought to stop me while they could.

That night a great spider came to me, verily right unto the path. Even the elven magic that protected their pathway could not ward it off. But I was wary, and only feigned sleep as it approached. Its many eyes gleamed in the dark, hunger and evil in its thoughts.

I jumped up. “Begone, foul brood of Ungoliant!” I cried. The light from my staff blazed with a fury. The fell creature stopped and gazed at me for but an instant, then advanced. I stooped and picked up a pinecone lying upon the ground. An ancient spell I spoke, and then turned and hurled it at the spider. Like a shooting star it flew into the beast, piercing its armored hide and burning it from within. With an unearthly cry it fled back to its lair, hopefully never to trouble innocent travelers again.

The light of my staff, blazing with my anger, slowly subsided…

 

The next evening I came to the hall of Thranduil. Graciously he welcomed me. “Radagast, ‘tis good to see you. Too long has it been since last you graced our halls.”

“Too long indeed. And sorry I am to come at last at this dangerous hour. Fell news is in the air. The Nine are abroad. And Saruman the White has betrayed the Council and my Order. He has chosen an evil path.”

Thranduil nodded gravely. “Foul news indeed. I have heard rumor of the Nine, but this news of Saruman grieves me deeply. Has Mithrandir been apprised of this? I sent my son Legolas to Imladris with tidings, including the escape of the creature Gollum, that he had entrusted to our care. I fear agents of Dol Guldur arranged his escape.”

“Indeed he knows, for Saruman imprisoned him in the tower of Orthanc. But my friend Gwaihir the Windlord freed him. Gandalf is on his way to Imladris now, I believe. But I have come here to offer my services. The storm is coming!”

“It is indeed, but better now I feel to have a wizard’s staff in my service! Thank you Radagast!”

“The honor is mine, Lord Thranduil. And glad am I to offer my staff to your Service.”

 

I spent the winter with Thranduil and the elves. It was always joyful to be with the fair folk, but the rumor of war and dread of what was to come hung over all our thoughts.

Of Gandalf and his doings no word had reached us, but news from the East and South was grim. The Eastern tribes of men were on the move, threatening the Men of Dale and the Lake, as well as the Dwarvish Kingdom under the Mountain. I used my skills to exchange messages with them via the ravens of Erebor. So much more noble than those crebain of Saruman’s, I decided.

And to the south came rumor of a great host of orcs and trolls gathering under the tower of Dol Guldur. Where and when would they strike? East across Anduin towards Lorien or Rohan? Or north towards Thranduil’s realm?

So winter passed into a worrisome spring. And their came a day at last when the assault took place, long foreseen. A great host of foul orcs and trolls came forth, and the spiders came with them. Fire they brought with them, seeking to burn the fair trees of the elves and drive off the Fair Folk. And at their head marched one of the Nazgul! Above us he flew on a monstrous beast, some creature of ancient times, bred no doubt in mockery of the eagles.

I joined Thranduil and his folk in defense. Terrible was that day, and too many of the fair folk were lost. But noble and valiant were Thranduil and his people. And I was of help as well. For my anger, at the dark lord far away, and at being the dupe of Saruman, at last had a means and purpose to express itself. Even the elves turned from me in fear and awe. In particular I concentrated my wrath on the dark rider, countering his evil spells with those of my own. While I could not harm him, I was able to prevent the foul wraith from doing much harm to myself or my allies. And soon he turned and fled, even as the battle hung in the balance. Only later did we learn he had been summoned back by his master, in response to the fall of the chief of the nine.

At last we had the victory, and the remnants of the dark army fled leaving behind countless slain and a great smoke.

Thranduil met me and shook his head. “A victory we have attained, much thanks to you. But no joy does it bring.”

I nodded in agreement. I too felt only sorrow. “The battle is won, but the war is not over,” I replied.

Indeed we were but one small part of a great struggle. Battle was there in Dale, and there the Easterlings overcame Dain and King Brand, slaying them and driving the survivors back inside the Mountain under siege. Assaults were made against Lorien. And rumor or war further south was to be heard.

 

The 10th day after the Battle under the Trees arrived. Thranduil’s forces were arrayed still in defence. No aid could we offer to Dale and Erebor, nor could we risk and advance to the south against the still mighty forces of Dol Guldur.

I stood atop a small hill that afternoon, deep in thought. To the south it seemed a great darkness had formed, but slowly it seemed to dissipate. The sun came from behind a cloud and shone down on me. I reveled in its warmth.

Suddenly I heard again the beat of mighty wings. I looked up to see a great eagle approach. I hailed the mighty bird and it approached.

“Hail Radagast, friend of Mithrandir,” said the bird. “Joyous news I bring. The Enemy has fallen, and the Dark Tower is cast down. The One Ring has been destroyed in the fire. Sauron is vanquished.”

And so hope unlooked for came to me, and I ran off to Thranduil to bear the good tidings

Word soon spread, both amongst the free peoples and the forces of the now fallen enemy. The Orcs and Trolls wandered witless through the forest. The Easterlings were dismayed and driven back by the Dwarves of Erebor and the Men of Dale.

With Thranduil I marched south towards the fortress of Dol Guldur. And halfway there, on the first day of the elves new year, we met a force marching northwards. It was the Elves of Lorien, led by Celeborn the Wise.

“Hail, kinsman,” he greeted Thranduil. Thranduil was overjoyed at this meeting. “What news Celeborn?” he asked.

“The tower of Dol Guldur is cast down, and my beloved Galadriel has laid bare its pits and freed its slaves. The darkness that cursed this forest had been broken.”

So they met and clasped hands, and named Mirkwood anew as Eryn Lasgalen. And then Celeborn espied me, in my humble brown cloak.

“Radagast! There you are. We feared for you. Glad we are to see you safe. Mithrandir was worried for you.”

I laughed. “It was thoughtful of Mithrandir amongst all his cares to worry for me. But yes I am fine. Humbled, but fine.” And I smiled.

“You should go to him. For soon a new king will be crowned in Gondor, and his task will be complete. Know ye also that Curunir has been cast from the Order by Mithrandir. You are the only other left. Come with me and we shall go to him.”

“Thank you, Lord Celeborn. But my task is not yet complete I fear.”

“But Sauron is defeated. Curunir has been overcome. Your task is done…”

I smiled. “Mithrandir’s task may be done, but he and I are birds of a different feather, as it were.” I laughed at my own joke. The elvish lords looked at me in wonder.

“I must go now. Tell Olor….tell Mithrandir that Aiwendil’s task is not quite finished. Perhaps some day I will cross paths with him again. Farewell Lord Celeborn, farewell Lord Thranduil! Joyous is this day. Farewell!” With that, I turned and left them.

 

For many years thereafter I went to and fro, ridding the forest of the last vestiges of darkness, healing old wounds, giving birth to new life. Few if any folk saw me, for now I avoided contact. And still the words burned in my mind, “and to you Aiwendil…” But at last even I grew weary, and so my course turned westward, over the mountains, past Imladris. Along the road I journeyed in silence.

And so I came to the Havens. And he was still there. Cirdan the Shipwright, who had first greeted me on my arrival to these shores. “We’ve been waiting for you,” he said. I nodded.

“I know Mithrandir has already left. And Curunir is no more,” I said. A thought occurred to me. “Have you seen aught of the other two? The Blue Wizards?”

He shook his head. “We have had no sign of them. Mithrandir didn’t think they’d be heard from again. But as to their fate….”

“It’s all right. It is out of my hands anyways.” Cirdan nodded and took me to a great ship. Many fair folk were on it and they welcomed my company. Swiftly it left the havens, westward to its ultimate destination.

I glanced one last time back to the shores of Middle-Earth, a green haze fading into the distance. “Well, my lady….I tried. I was not perfect, but I tried.” With those thoughts I turned away, never to see those lands again…

 


End file.
